feed Subscribe to feed

I’m just bitter because I’m at work on a “work-at-home-Monday” due to these fucking time-shits..

Posted in Crazy Wisdom on Monday, June 23, 2003 at 10:31 am by flerly.

An Alaska Sailor’s Vocabulary… so you too can practice for your morning road-rage experiences that perhaps transcend into morning job-rage experiences.

This morning, I started off with a cat-rage experience. That little shit ran out the open door that I was standing in, a half second after the fat-ass cat who is allowed outside, and proceeded to take off like a stripe-assed ape.

Fuck the speedway. Fuck “Please do for Bobby this morning” notes that are on my desk, especially when they are on reworks I’ve already talked to Bobby about. Fuck cocksuckers who don’t seem to realize green lights mean go, who manage to take over a minute to travel two car lengths with nothing in front of them, only to halt abruptly when the light turns amber again. Fuck my bad night’s sleep. Fuck my fingers on both hands that all feel like they’ve been hyper extended, probably from holding myself up off JamesT on the motorcycle by reaching around him to hold onto the gas tank– only to find out I just don’t fit on that bike and there’s no fucking good way to hold on. Sure thing, I’ll just sit up and cross my legs and drink tea back here, no worries. And most of all, fuck that fucking cat. She should be happy I didn’t catch her, because she’s going to get the coldest bath she’s ever had and beaten to within an inch of her life, if I can restrain myself from simply breaking her in half with my bare hands. Did I mention fuck my fucking red-porch-light-having, hooker neighbor? You know the one, Magoo’s 6am party-girl? Well, I’d say fuck that can’t-stop-touching-my-own-boobs hooker, for her and her pimp man sitting out on the porch with their Corona’s, smacking that ass, at 9 AM whilst I rustle through the bushes chasing dumbass kitty. “ooh.. she’s mad now! look at her!” was the last thing I put up with hearing before I said fuck this cat, got in my car and headed to work.

And now.. I sit down to do five weeks worth of time-shits that they are finally insisting upon. “Must have these by Monday afternoon or else payroll may be interrupted.” Oh yeah, a threat. We DO our fucking PAYROLL time sheets, thank you, we just don’t do the lame ass WORK LOGs anymore, but, never-the-less, I was cc’d on the email to all the folks who had agreed to stop doing the work logs, and I’m not in the worst boat. Two of the others have to do seven weeks worth.

Ugh.. there’s nothing to screw, and I can’t dance…


No Comments

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.

Search this blog